


Remember The Medial

by xXHumptyDumptyXx



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Canon Universe, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mother-Son Relationship, Neglect, One Shot, Pre-Canon, my take on Adrien's mom disappearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9157717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXHumptyDumptyXx/pseuds/xXHumptyDumptyXx
Summary: The ones he remembers are the pictures she took of their travels, the shouts of his father's tone lashing his heart, her hugs and Christmas cheer putting up the lights, and his nights filled with cries of everything and nothing. He remembers all of them. When he woke up to find her gone, to his father's cold shoulder as his only source of warmth, that's when he realized: She's not coming back. (A retelling of Adrien's relationship with both of his parents with his mother's disappearance and his father's neglect.)





	

It’s one of the memories Adrien cherishes most. Nature was one of his mother's favorites, and he was endearing no matter where they went. That day they were standing side by side, her head leaning slightly against his, and a full match of hair and eyes. She adjusted over and over to get the right shot. Father always did say they were both a spitting image of each other. 

"Almost without a quality from me..." His hands on the camera delicate and his tone depressing. She hit him lightly on the cheek. After that, neither would let it go because Adrien Agreste was as much of his father as his mother. It was a belief he felt pride in when passing by the family portrait of his parents.

"Come and join us?" 

Father ignores the insistence because how else will the picture be taken? It's just like him to say that. A camera crew would’ve been hired, if only without resistance from mother’s wishes, which were more personal. Adrien knows it’s an excuse from him; he doesn’t find himself bothered much anyway. Today was a day for her, and father cares enough to remember even that. He lowers the camera after a few more shot; Adrien can see his eyes and knows it’s for her. 

"Where to next?"

There’s a smile forming on their lips when she leads him hand and hand. Adrien steps in front of the Fountain of the Innocents, the one he's seen every year. The lights are glittering across the water spray, and he looks at the twinkle in her eyes. She calls father over, and once again he asks, "Why a fountain?" It happens nearly every time, especially the same confused look to grace him. He's aware of the answer given time and time again but asks anyway. Adrien believes maybe he's trying to confirm something, and only she can reassure him. What that is? He has no idea. His father never normally looks like he does today. He's bright and allowing, so when she responds with a chastising, “Gabriel, you know exactly why,” and his smile returns, Adrien practically warms. That's what he remembers most, the warmth of family, and happiness in all three of them that night. 

* * *

 

There was a day before that he remembers clearer than any other. The last day with the atmosphere twisting and turning. He had slipped through the door only to be greeted with dim lights. The backpack in his hand dropped, forgotten, and face twisted into concern. Never has the house been this uninviting during the day. It makes him think of the underlined words and hesitant faces of mother and father the past week. 

'Please, don't go...'

'Why?'

The kind he processed with restriction and denial because there's no way they're fighting, right? The simple ones they’ve both shown replacing the complex ones with emotions intertwined. Adrien places his hand on the only door seeping light, fully intent on wrenching it open. There’s a voice that reaches him in time with a pounding heart. One is soft-spoken, and another stone-cold. This stops him, but before he can pick up the pieces, the other side is pulled open. She’s staring back with a shocked face, mouth forming his name. All response is now gone, shoved away like the door moments ago.

“Adrien, go to your room.” Father's voice is conflicted, caring, and something you can’t identify. It wasn’t uncommon already, and yet, nothing as usual. It’s foreign and so unlike him, that Adrien can't identify it. There's rebellion is forming in his mouth but it stills into a clump. She’s still there, looking at him with a forcefulness against himself that is brought most by not wanting to displease her.

“Please, I love you, so go,” her tone is desperate. The steps of his feet are connected to the world, to this house, but tonight they are lost somewhere else. The face in his pillow is in denial, last thought being her necklace swishing through the air. He can't bring himself to cry or get back up or do anything. It’s going back and forth, back and forth in a slow rhythm to his beating heart.

* * *

 

Adrien walks the hallways after that day and true realization comes through time. The shock hits him from yesterday. His head feels airy, breathing heavy, and fists clenched. The stumble of legs enter into father's office. Adrien recalls yelling, asking for an explanation. All that meets him is a scrunched face. Father's troubled, and that's something he's never seen before. She was always there to protect him- A pair of arms circle around Adrien that give no comfort. He doesn't feel anything from them.  It stops not a single tear that rushes down his face. If anything, he cries harder to show the world that he can feel and see and practically taste the emptiness. He doesn't know if father cried that day, because the other's face was nothing but shielded away.

"Adrien, I'm sorry, but she's not coming back." 

Father doesn’t speak to him subsequently, or the eternity of a few days that pass. Adrien doesn’t know how he feels, about the loss of contact, or overflow of freedom. Neither is what he wanted or expected. Right now, the one thing on his mind is her. Back then, the words _she’s gone_  were closed in on himself. Now there's a roar of grief overpowering and undeniable. The grasp of father comes to mind again... How long has it been? He stays hidden in the study writing in books and brooding. Adrien shuffles into the room one day hoping for more than a blank face, yet that's all there is. For now, he keeps trying, because father will break out of this eventually. When he does Adrien has to be here to catch him and tell him he's not alone. That he misses her just as much. Maybe this time he’ll say yes.

“Father, please, can we talk?” The twitch of father's hand stops, and he take this as a good sign. _Please,_ you remember how she said it like it was yesterday. Like how it's been a week already and father hasn't looked Adrien in the face since. Ice blue eyes turn, “I’m hiring a new assistant. She’ll take care of the house, and hopefully keep you out of trouble.” This is all he says, and from that day Adrien never asks about it again.

* * *

 

The monotone drawl of Nathalie’s voice never stops, urging Adrien to think about fleeing the room. His eyes wander to the ceiling. She'd probably hunt him down to China, and the thought almost makes him crack a smile.

"Are you listening, Adrien?"

“Paris.”

It was an obvious answer. His voice is strung-out, and even a child would be able to tell it’s sick and bored. She, of course, ignores this.

"Very good, you're correct again. Your father should be pleased by these scores."

Adrien mentally applauds himself as if it’s actually worth impressing father. As if he should do anything educational when his stomach is protesting so loud. During lunch, he obviously spends it out of the house, slipping away when Nathalie turns her back. What was the point of staying for lunch by himself? No way, not while the streets are full of people and things to see. That’s when the contrast hits him. All this time cooped up in his own house given trivia, and he can’t even remember the last time father spoke a word. No, Adrien can’t remember talking to anyone besides his high-class babysitter for that matter, as nice as she can be. He catches a pair walking and laughing together. A life with friends, wouldn't that be great? School, real school, where it's not a pointer and flashcards all day. Rooms full of people who live without these restrictions. Adrien wants all of this, almost as bad as an answer to the past. He can feel the ache in his bones. It’s been so long since he's felt this courageous. The limo pulls up with a worried looking Nathalie, who urges Adrien in.

"Where have you been?! We're going home right this instant."

“I want to go to school,” Adrien says as the car rolls to a start. Her face startles, and he can already hear what she’s going to say. Yet perhaps from seeing it in his eyes, or something else, there’s a change.

“We’ll see, Adrien. Your father won’t be happy with a change in education.” That's what it comes down to, doesn't it? Adrien hopes she realizes father hasn't been happy in a long time. No matter what though, those words are better than any other he's heard in a long while. It gives a small sliver of hope.

* * *

 

Adrien would give anything to escape this if only escaping was an option. Father's words are ringing around the room. 

'My son... he's going to stay where he's safe! Make sure he doesn't run away again.'

'Yes sir,' her eyes had looked guilty.

The only comfort he has is a pillow that his tears fill and the painting of her. There are belongings littering the floor from where he's thrown them. Sooner or later he'll have to face it: to never have a normal life. He'll stay in this mansion forever, alone and bored.  The door flies open, and Adrien's almost tricked into thinking he caused it with anger and regret. His bed shakes as he jumps up, hearing another crash outside. What was that? There are policemen outside the gate aiming forward at what you cannot see.  It’s too dangerous to look closer, so it has to be on the news. He rushes to the television and flips to the mayor being swarmed by news reporters. 

"Yes, yes, we have trained police advancing onto the -" another boom interrupts him.

A giant stone man is walking towards a police officer. It cuts back to a scene of one officer retelling how he got a broken arm. The report has big bold letters of “A Super Villain In Paris?” No matter how you look at it the mayor is trying to remain calm, but the situation is getting worse. There’s a shadow that catches Adrien's eye. It’s a weird black box on the table. What? In confusion, he picks it up with wonder at what’s inside, and more important how it even got there. Did father put this here? No, he couldn't have. Adrien didn't see it earlier and why would father get him anything now? 

He opens it. That was the first and last decision Adrien ever made and by far the best. It was the last he remembered. The one that changed his entire life.


End file.
